


The Housekeeper

by Lady_of_Winter



Series: If it's love why does it hurt so much [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:44:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Winter/pseuds/Lady_of_Winter
Summary: Tywin Lannister had an bicycle accident and is in hospital.Sansa Stark was dismissed by her employer. Now she desperately needs to find a new Job soon to pay for her younger brothers' college.  One thing comes to another and Sansa ends up as housekeeper for Tywin Lannister.





	1. The Advertisement

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother's tongue, so I'm sorry for all grammatical mistakes.
> 
> I own nothing, every character belongs to George R.R. Martin.
> 
> Comments and criticisms are appreciated.
> 
> Enjoy!

The Advertisement

 

_We are in search of an experienced high quality housekeeper for one of our customers. He or she has to have a neat and decent appearance, is responsible, self-confident and trustworthy. He or she should have a driver license as well. Duties include dusting & polishing, cleaning carpets and floors, laundry services and gardening & cooking. The housekeeper lives in his own premises in the main house._

 

If you are interested, please contact **serious.housekeeper@westeros.com**

 

 

Genna was very content with her written advertisement. Her brother needed someone in his house who kept it clean and kept an eye on Tywin. Especially now after his accident. He was a great deal too much alone and she couldn’t spent as much time as she used to at Tywin’s house anymore. She was going back to Casterly Rock. Her son wanted to get married. And she wanted to prevent it. Hopefully she could find someone suitable soon.


	2. Tywin I

Tywin I

 

Tywin Lannister lied on his bed at Kings Landing Royal Hospital. He was absolutely annoyed. Yesterday at the same time, he was in his company, sitting behind his desk and reading the report of the latest year’s profit. His company –The Golden Lion- was one of the finest banks in Westeros. The company made the best profit in years. Of course, it was only because of _him. He_ was the Lion of Lannister and thanks to _him_ and _his_ brilliant ideas, the company could make some big deals with the crown.      

Ordinary, he wouldn’t spend money on his own because of special profits or anything else (he thought it was a sign of arrogance and vanity if you bought things for yourself which weren’t utterly necessary), but this time he did. It was a necessary arrangement. It all started some weeks ago. If he had known, what he would earn from the whole thing, he had kept his own hands off it from the very beginning. But of course, he _hadn’t_ know. He couldn’t. Now he had to deal with the consequences.

Some weeks ago, he was coming into his living room and the television was on. So he was _accidentally_ watching TV (not that _he himself_ turned the television on) it must had been Tyrion (Tywin wouldn’t do anything like that, television wasn’t anything intellectual and watching it made him tired). However, what he actually saw was very astonishing. It was a report about the top 10 managers and their companies in Westeros.                                                                                                                                                        

_How interesting_ , he thought. He wanted to sit down on _his_ comfortable armchair just then and watch the report, when he realized that his son Tyrion, who seemed to sleep deeply despite the noise of the television, had already occupied it. Tywin frowned. He turned and walked towards his couch, sat down and knew immediately, why he hated the sofa. It was much too soft. And only the cushions! Tywin couldn’t recall how often he already had put them away, but every time he returned to his living room, they were on his sofa again. He suspected his sister Genna, but he hadn’t any proof for it. Regarding to her, someone had to look after him from time to time. _As if it was necessary! He could live on his own very well. He didn’t need her or one of his other family members around. He was perfectly fine to live alone._                                                                                 

Tyrion snored loudly. Tywin’s frown deepened and he glared on his sleeping son. He needed some new ideas how he could remove Tyrion from his house. Tyrion was a completely nuisance to him and he was old enough to stand on his own feet. _Why did he actually allow Tyrion to live in his house?_ He couldn’t remember. However, he knew one thing. He wouldn’t spend a single coin on his son anymore. He had done more than enough for Tyrion. He needed his house for himself again. He simply wanted to be alone.

 

* * *

 

The reporter wasn’t anything special, just an ordinary woman. _How boring_. Nevertheless, she proved his opinion about the ranking. His company was on first place regarding profit and reputation. Of course, he was proud, but that didn’t mean he had to show it (no one important enough was around, so it didn’t matter). He wanted to turn the television off, when the woman started to speak about _him._ He, Tywin Lannister was on the news. He was really surprised. The woman began to talk about him, but not about his company or his achievements, but about his reputation in his company.

He knew, nearly all of his employees (except mayhaps h is brother somedays) feared him and didn’t have the courage to face him. They were all cowards and idiots. Just like his nuisance of a son. So what did the woman want to tell?                                                                                                                                                                                            

He listened very concentrated on her report. With every word, Tywin got angrier. He found out _he_ wasn’t only a greatly feared authority (that was exactly the thing he wanted to achieve and he was proud of that), but regarding to some of his employees a _petty bully_ , who had nothing else to do than to criticize his employees, even when they did something right. He also seemed to dismiss everyone who made the slightest mistake. Of course, he did these things. They weren’t anything new to him, but _was he therefore a petty bully or a narcissist?_ He didn’t think so. These acts were simply necessary.

He simply _had_ to dismiss people and replace them with better ones if he wanted the company to go on. Not that the reporter mentioned _that._   _How could this little reporter of a woman dare to criticize him or his leadership, especially on television, where everyone could see it?_ He _wasn’t_ a green boy after all, who managed a company only since yesterday. He _was_ Tywin Lannister, head of the company for over 40 years now, so how could she dare? Just as he dialed the number of Roose Bolton, the head of Westeros television, the report went on and it didn’t go any better. In contrast, it got worse. The reporter blamed him for the loss of familiarity in his company. Many employees didn’t have joy during their work anymore. _As if work was supposed to be funny!_                                                                                                                                                           

And now the highlight came. The woman didn’t only tell _what_ he purportedly did to his employees; she even made speculations _why_ he had such a narcissistic personality. She had to question therefore some of his employees. He scowled and tripped his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his sofa. He would have some inquisitions and find out, who gave her all the information. Varys would help. He liked this kind of games. Tywin nearly smiled. How ridiculous this report was. However, he had to admit the reporter was very clever. She knew what she did. Nevertheless this report was completely wrong and of course unnecessary. So what were her speculations? He quickly wanted to know them. He simply _had_ to. Not that he was really interested in them. It was just better to have this kind of information. No one knew with what he had to deal in the future. Moreover, what was going on _now?_

_Advertisement! Again!_  He _knew_ why he hated watching television, why he always tried to avoid it and why it was one of the unnecessariest things in the world. He was annoyed. He stood up and began to pace before the television. He had to remain calm. He was head of one of the finest company’s in Westeros. He glanced to Tyrion. Of course, he was still sleeping! Probably he didn’t even notice what was going on! And why was _he_ sleeping in _his_ armchair? It was _his_ house. Not his son’s.                                                         His incapable son couldn’t even afford an armchair. He was living on Tywin’s expense as nearly every member of the Lannister family. This had to change. _Now._ He stopped before his son, brought himself on eyelevel with his son. He glared at him. His lazy son didn’t react. He didn’t even made a move. However, Tywin didn’t want to touch his son. He cleared his throat. No reaction at all. Tywin got more furious with every moment. He wanted to shout at him. He wanted to shake him. Tyrion was an abomination of house Lannister and brought nothing but shame to his family. Nevertheless, Tywin tried to stay calm and thought. He shoot Tyrion a disdainfully look. A voice from the television interrupted him suddenly. _“And now back to Margery Tyrell, our newest member of Westeros television.”_                                                                                                          

Tywin froze. _Did the reporter actual say Margery Tyrell?_ His muscles stretched. Anger crawled through his body. He wanted to hit something. _The Tyrells were behind this ridiculous report! Of course they were. Why hadn’t he noticed before? Olenna Tyrell had been trying to destroy his company for years now! This little whore!_ A new thought reached his mind. He knew how he would deal with the Tyrells’.

Tywin smiled.

Tywin hadn’t realized that his son was awake until Tyrion cleared his throat. He was still towering over Tyrion. Their faces just inches away. He could feel his breath. However, he didn’t give more than a short glance to Tyrion’s curious, nearly horrified expression. He didn’t know why his son should be horrified. He hadn’t done him any harm of importance. He was just smiling. So nothing of great importance. In fact, Tywin had to admit he hadn’t smiled in years. He couldn’t even tell when it happened the last time. Most people knew him as stoic, as the impenetrable man he was. However, he was proud as well. And now, people had hurt his pride. His pride of a Lannister, an authority, and the pride of his family. First, he didn’t want to admit it. He wanted to loathe it, but he had to confess that it was better then he did. It would make the execution of his plans much easier.

He had to _think._ But first, he had to deal with Tyrion. He glanced at him. “I didn’t thought you would ever awake. As you are already awake, stand up now and get out of _my_ chair.” Tyrion hold his father’s gaze. He didn’t even get ready to move. They were challenging each other now. Tywin squinted his eyes. His eyes gleaming with not well concealed anger. Finally, Tyrion moved. Hopped out of the chair as it was a bed. Tywin grimaced disgusted. Couldn’t Tyrion behave ever? He was a Lannister after all, even Tywin hadn’t any affection for him. As soon as his armchair was empty, Tywin sat down. _Ah! How he loved this chair. It had exactly the right amount of hardness and softness. Quite comfortable. It was simply perfect._ He closed his eyes. Allowed himself a moment of memories. Joanna was always sitting in this armchair. Mostly reading or stitching. Her memories gave him always strength. The armchair was one of his most precious things. Now he was calm again. He knew what he had to do. He heard Tyrion walking to the door. “Stay.”, was all he said. Tyrion stopped in front of him. His face didn’t even reveal the slightest of his feelings. Good, Tywin thought. “You called after me, Father?” Tywin wouldn’t show that he was pleased. Despite Tyrion’s not really well concealed anger, he spoke with a firm and neutral voice. _Perhaps you can find a bit of a Lannister in him after all._ “You will not stay at home lazily anymore. You are a Lannister and you have to behave as one. It is the very least you can do for our house. You will join me in the company from tomorrow on. You will work directly under me. You will not tell anyone what you are doing and what you will find out, but me. You will be discreet and gather every single information you can find. Varys will explain what you are looking for. Now get out of my living room!”                                                                                                                

He watched Tyrion leaving the room. _Wait! He forgot something!_ “Tyrion”, he said, “What would you do if people regard you as inhuman?” His son turned and grinned. “Well, that’s easy. Show them you’re not” And before Tywin could say another word, his son was disappeared. Tywin was perplexed. He hadn’t thought about that. A new idea crossed his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day he found himself in front of a bicycle store. The store was in a small house in a narrow side alley near the city center of Kings Landing. Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon were the owners and they sold the most exclusive and best bikes if you believed the news and his dearest friends ( _yes, he actually had some friends, even if his sister found it hard to believe)._ From the outside it looked like an ordinary shop if you ignored the great amount of flower banquets in front of every window. Tywin frowned. It looked more like a flower shop than a bicycle store to him. He checked the address on his smartphone twice before he crossed the road and made his way to the entrance. He hoped it wouldn’t take too long. He had an important meeting in about an hour after all and he didn’t trust his son enough to deal with the matter alone.                                                

As soon as he entered the store, the atmosphere changed around him. It wasn’t noisy and crowded anymore. In contrast, it was pretty quiet. _Very pleasant_. It reminded him of his house. Nevertheless, he had only less than an hour. As a result, he went straight to the counter and rang the bell. No one appeared. He waited impatiently. He rang the bell a second time. Still no one appeared. How he hated it to wait. _He just needed a fucking bike. Nothing else._                                                                                                           

“Oh Loras, see, we’ve got a visitor. Seems to be it’s an old man. Will you take care of him?” Tywin heard them chuckling. How he _hated_ chuckling. He turned on his heel, his wide cloak bunched up like a cape and he glared at the two _boys._ That was what they were after all. _Boys._ He was disgusted.                                                                                      

They hadn’t moved since he turned. Their faces told that they we’re both horrified. _Had he done something wrong?_ He couldn’t tell. They were just idiots. Minutes passed. No one spoke. The silence grew more uncomfortable. “I need a bike”, he barked finally. “Show me something useful.” “Yes, of course Mr. Lannister. I’m sorry. We didn’t recognize you. We usually don’t have costumers at that time in the morning.” _At that time? It was a little bit later than 8 a.m... Usually he had already worked two hours at that time. Was Loras trying to be funny?_ “So am I, Mr. Lannister. We have to excuse ourselves. I-“ “Enough of that!”, he interrupted Renly harshly, “show me the bikes.” “For whom are you looking for? We received a new delivery of girls’ bikes only yesterday. Oh Loras, do you remember this wonderful beautiful pink bicycle? It must fit perfectly to Princess Myrcella…..” _What the hell was going on? Had Renly lost his wits? Wasn’t his presence enough proof that he was looking for himself?_ He grew furious. “I’m looking for myself.”, he tried to say as calm as possible, “Now show me something.”                                                                                                                                                                       

Tywin turned and walked away from the stair. Nevertheless, he didn’t miss the glance both exchanged. “This way please, Mr. Lannister. We have all kinds of bikes…...” _Loras seemed to find his wits again. Good. He glanced at his watch. Quarter to nine! He had to be at his company in less than an quarter hour and he was still stuck in a bicycle store. How could he managed it?_ “Loras, give me the best bike you have.”, he commanded. “It has to be quick, must be light and easy to manage. Send the bill to my office.” Loras didn’t react. “What are you standing around? _Move!”_ This purchase was more difficult than he ever had imagined! He had to leave. Loras handed him a bike. He just took it and run out of the store with it. “Wait!”, Loras shouted, you should know it doesn’t have a-“ BANG! Tywin felt the crush before he heard the squealing of tires. The air was pressed out of his lungs. His body flying through the air, hitting the ground. _Where was his bike?_ Everything went black.                                                                                                

His right arm was broken. As was his left leg. The doctors told him he had had luck that his head wasn’t injured. He couldn’t move himself without help. He _needed_ help for nearly everything. How he _hated_ it. He _hated_ the hospital, _hated_ the doctors and most of all the simple-minded nurses. He _wanted_ to go home. His company was lost _without_ him. And most of all he wanted to be _alone._


	3. Genna I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos! 
> 
> As some of you have already guessed, this will be a Sansa/Tywin Story (I added the tag), but unfortunately not in the near future. I'm sorry guys, but we need some plot first.  
> In any case we will have some fluff and more! 
> 
> Let's see where this whole story will get. Enjoy!
> 
> As always: I own nothing, every character belongs to George R. R. Martin
> 
> Comments and Criticisms are always appreciated.

Genna I

Genna sighed. She was returning to Casterly Rock next week and running out of time. She hadn’t found a suitable housekeeper for Tywin yet. Her mother had always had a perfect housekeeper. _What was so difficult to be decent and courteous today?_

Oh yes, she had applicants for this work, and not a few. However, most of the applicants were, well (how could she describe her feeling best?), _pretty strange_. She hadn’t trust them from the very beginning. And if she didn’t trust them, Tywin would never do. Some came to the job interview in questionable clothes, some chewed chewing gum during their conversation and some couldn’t even speak a clear Westeros sentence without making several grammar mistakes. How was she supposed to find _anyone?_ Genna sighed. Did she have to high expectations? _What should she do?_ She just wanted to have a housekeeper, who looked well, had good manners, could cook and knew things about gardening (Tywin loved his garden, he would never forgive her if she neglected it).

She didn’t know what she was going to do if she couldn’t find anyone. Some of the applicants weren’t that worse. She opened her notebook and looked at their profiles again. However, they weren’t _enough._ She needed someone useful and self-content who could stand up to Tywin. And most of all a person Tywin could respect. That was the most difficult criteria. Genna frowned. Maybe she had to look from Tywin’s view on the qualities of an acceptable housekeeper. What would Tywin like? That was _really_ difficult. He didn’t like many things. Yes, he loved his garden and he had his proud, but what else? Maybe it was easier if she thought about the things he disliked at first. Well, that was not that difficult. He didn’t like people who talked too much. People who weren’t wholehearted and honest as well. On top of that people, who made fun of him. He loathed simple-minded and double-faced people. Tywin would look for a loyal, respectful and wholehearted person. It had to be a woman. He would never accept a man in housekeeper clothes. Neither a person, who didn’t care for her appearance. No piercings or tattoos. Genna sighed. That was a long list. And she had less than a week.

Maybe she should just stay here at Kings Landing. But her son Walder needed her more than ever before. He had been secretly dating Margery Tyrell for quite a while now and her other children informed her that he intended to _marry_ her. She was grateful for this piece of information. Margery was neither a decent nor an acceptable partner for her youngest son. He was gentle, wholehearted and a Lannister after all and if you believed the rumors, Margery wasn’t better than a common whore, even if she carried the Tyrell name. Genna disliked the Tyrells’. They were all quiet cunning except perhaps poor Loras. Fortunately, the marriage proposal wasn’t official yet, so she hopefully could change her son’s mind. Her brother mustn’t never find out about this problem. He would be furious. And he would make her responsible for it. Genna knew Tywin would never hurt her, nevertheless, she was afraid of his anger. Hopefully, he would never ever find out.

She glanced at her watch. It was nearly 5 p.am… Tyrion would be at home soon. Gladly, Tyrion wasn’t as demanding as Tywin regarding cooking. To tell the truth, he never demanded anything. He was quite the opposite of Tywin. She thought she knew _why_ he wanted to be so different from his father. Their relationship wasn’t the best. Nevertheless, she could tell Tywin loved his son, even if he would never admit it. After Tyrion’s breakdown (it must have been during Christmas two years ago) and his time in hospital, he had been living at his father’s house. Genna had persuaded Tywin to accommodate Tyrion at his house. This hadn’t been easy. She had been spending more time at Tywin’s house since then. Before it, she went to Tywin only a few times in a month. Today, almost every day if she could make it. She worried about them. They were far too much alone and needed company. They didn’t get well with one another and Genna feared what would happen if she left them alone. Sometimes she invited members of their family, mostly his children and grandchildren, for supper. She could tell easily, Tywin and Tyrion didn’t like these evenings. However, she didn’t stop them. She could see they improved the relationships in Tywin’s family a lot. And most of all, they helped Tyrion to get to his former self again. These evenings were _important_ for this family. So they had to go on. She would make sure the housekeeper understood this.

She was cutting vegetables for a simple stew when she saw Tyrion climbing the stairs to the front door. His health had improved a lot during the last months. 

Tyrion opened the kitchen door and stopped visibly surprised. “Genna, you’re here? I thought you wanted to meet Varys today?” She turned smiling with a knife in her hand. “Of course I am here, darling. Where else should I be? I’ve already met Varys. Someone has to make sure you eat something substantial at least once a day.”

“ _Very funny_.”, he mumbled and walked out of the kitchen door. “Tyrion”, she called after him, ”dinner is ready in about half an hour. So wash your hands and tell your aunt how your day was.”

“Quite interesting if you asked me. Father called at the company and wanted us to send his work to the hospital. He said he was _boring."_ He glanced mischievously at Genna. “Can you imagine? I can’t.”

Tyrion told this as if it was a matter of fact, but Genna knew how dangerous Tywin was if he was grumpy and most of all boring. “Tyrion, did he call you directly?” Tyrion laughed. “No, fortunately not. He called his secrecy.” “Poor Walda. She’s always been nice.” Tyrion went severe from one moment to another. “I hope father won’t dismiss her. She does her job well. I appreciate her work.” Genna couldn’t say anything to this. Her brother wasn’t the most pardoning person in the world.

“What did you do?” “Nothing. I let him talk, he almost yelled in my ear, and then I _unfortunately_ must have pressed the red button on my phone. Suddenly the call was interrupted. I do really have no idea _why.”_

 

* * *

 

Tyrion opened a bottle of Dornish red and poured two glasses. He watched her carefully. He emptied his glass in one go and refilled it instantly. “You like one?” She refused. It would be better if she had a drink.

He was walking on tricky Waters now. He had to be careful. “Why do you want to have every information about Margery Tyrell?”

Genna froze. She tightened her grip on her knife. She hadn’t told him _anything_ about her plans, _how could he know?_

She turned finally, the knife still in her hand. “How do you know?”, she whispered.

“Genna, I’m working with Varys. My business is _to know things_. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I can’t. The Tyrells’ are much too dangerous. And it is _my_ business after all. Everything will be fine soon.” She tried to smile, but failed.

“Please, Genna, tell me. I can _help_ you.”

“No, Tyrion, I said _no.”_ She hated herself for her harsh words. “It’s much too dangerous. I don’t want you to….” She couldn’t say it. It pained her heart.

Tyrion left the kitchen without another word.

Genna could tell he was hurt. But she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t lose him.

 

* * *

 

Supper was a strange affair for both of them. She could tell Tyrion must have drunken some glasses in the living room. She didn’t like it but said nothing. She was glad that he actually _came_ to supper as she called him.

Tyrion’s moods resembled them of his father. She had to admit that he was the child who resembled Tywin most. Right now he was sullen. Nevertheless, he tried to be courteous. “How were the applicants today?”

Genna had decided to tell Tyrion about her plans regarding the housekeeper some time ago. She was glad she had done it.

“Not very helpful. One was awful, she came far too late, and the other one talked too much.”

She filled two bowls with roasted lamb stew and made her way to the kitchen table. “Tywin is leaving the hospital next Monday. Until then, we must have one.”

Tyrion had to admit they needed a housekeeper. A month ago, Genna was visiting some old friends in Pentos and Tywin and Tyrion were on their own. He really didn’t want to remember this week. To be precise, it _didn’t_ go well.

In the end he thought his father wanted to kill him.

They were _helpless_ without Genna.

 

He took another spoon. “I will miss the food.” She smiled at his words. “I’m out of town for the next days and I've already checked the fridge and freezer. You don't Need to worry about food. Everything you may need is in the fridge” As if he _would_ starve. He knew the fridge nearly brimmed over with food. It must be the same with the freezer. _How much was he supposed to eat?_ “I don’t know _what_ we would do without you.”, he said dramatically. Genna laughed softly at his words. “You will get along. Or you will call a housekeeper service like last time.” Tyrion froze. He felt utterly _embarrassed_. After failing doing chores, his father and he decided to call a housekeeper service. They were much too embarrassed to face Genna with all their mess. They both _never_ mentioned it again.

“Did you two think I would never find out? I grew up with your father and I know you since the day you were born. Have you ever asked yourself how your father got along before you moved in? He has never ever done any chores except gardening or sometimes cooking in his life. You _both_ are helpless without me. The next time you want to hide something from me, don’t let the bill be send here.”

“You have been doing all these things for my father before?” Tyrion was surprised. His father was always decent in appearance and he _hated_ disorder and disorderly people. However, Genna was right. His father was helpless regarding simple chore tasks. A question crossed his mind. _How could such a man live in such a mess?_ They needed to find a housekeeper soon. He didn’t want to make his mistake with his father's shirts again.

 


	4. Sansa I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for leaving kudos and comments.
> 
> We've got a new personal view!  
> Sansa is here finally! It's just a shortie, I'm sorry, but she has a very interesting past.....
> 
> I wrote this chapter some days ago while listening to XYLØ - BLK CLD. I can recommend it very much for this chapter and otherwise of course as well!
> 
> As always, I own nothing, everything belongs to George R.R. Martin.
> 
> Comments and Criticisms are appreciated!
> 
> Next chapter will be Tywin. He has to face some changes in his life....
> 
> Enjoy!

Sansa I

 

She had lost her job. _How was she supposed to pay for her younger brothers‘ college now?_ Her parents and her older brother Robb had died in a car crash some years ago, leaving her in care for her younger siblings behind. Her parents hadn’t been wealthy, so she had to drop out of college, return to Winterfell and find work. Finding work in the North hadn’t been difficult, but to find well payed work from which a whole family could live on was almost impossible. She had worked as much as possible during the last years because she wanted her younger siblings to go to college. Fortunately, Bran got a scholarship. She didn’t know what she would do without it. Her salary was hardly enough to live on, but she tried her best. Arya sent her some money every month since she was working in Braavos. She hadn’t asked for it. She _never_ asked for anything. She didn’t want it, but nevertheless, Arya kept sending it. And she was thankful for it. She knew they needed it.

Now more than ever before.

It was raining. The heavy rain didn’t do anything to rise her mood as she dropped her bus in a suburb of Wintertown. She had forgotten her umbrella at home. Surely, she would be soaked by the time she reached it. Sansa sighed. Her place wasn’t much, but it was all she could afford. She came to love it some time ago. It was their _home_ after all. A small house, located amid a lovely garden.

Smoke was rising from the chimney. Rickon must be already at home.

She smiled.

 

* * *

  

She couldn’t bring herself to tell Rickon about her dismissal. He already worried enough about her.

She felt _ashamed_.

She loathed herself for it.

A week passed. She went to the job center in Wintertown nearly every day. There was little else she could do. Sansa worried about their future. She didn’t know how she should pay the rent or anything else next month. She didn’t have large reserves.

“There will be more jobs next summer.”, was all the official said. She hadn’t time until next summer. If she had a college degree, it would be much easier. She got angry at herself. She hated herself for her own stupidity. _How could she ever believe Petyr?_

The first time she met him, he was running into her as she was cleaning the entrance hall of Wintertown Hotel. She nearly fell down on the floor, but he grabbed her in the last second. He wasn’t much taller than she was, but she could feel his strength in the arms that hold her.

“Are you well, Miss-?” “Stark.”, was all she could manage in a whisper. “I am utterly sorry, Miss Stark. Please excuse my rudeness, it is unforgivable.” He paused and studied her face carefully. “Are you sure you are well? You look indeed a bit pale.”

She had never met a man like him before. He was courteous and attentive. She was instantly lost.

“Well, Miss Stark?” She felt herself blushing. He was making her mind dizzy. “No”, she stammered, “I’m fine. Thank you Mr.-” “Petyr, call me Petyr.”

She blushed deeper. She knew it was highly improper, but she couldn’t refuse him. “As you wish, Petyr.”, she said softly. His eyes brightened at that and he drew her even more closely while he smiled sweetly down on her.

“It seems as if I have to believe you then. Farewell, Miss Stark. I hope we will see us again soon.” 

 

* * *

  

She had trusted him. He told her about a better future. And _she_ had been stupid enough to believe him.

She wanted to believe him so desperately.

_How could she?_

All what he had ever told her was a lie. He was married to someone else. _How couldn’t she ever notice?_

Petyr had only used her. It had taken some time for her to understand the painful truth. The acceptance took much longer. It hurt _so much_ to know that he had only taken advantage of her. She thought her heart would shatter.

She inhaled sharply. Heavy snow was falling down outside of the house.

She decided she had to tell Rickon.

 

There wouldn’t be a better future for her or her until she made one herself.


	5. Let the games begin_Tywin II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genna picks Tywin up from hospital. Genna tells him she’s leaving, Tywin doesn’t want a housekeeper.
> 
> According to some sources, a broken leg needs about 6 - 8 weeks and a broken arm about 4 - 10 weeks to heal.  
> Tywin stayed in hospital for about three weeks, so he will need help for quite a while yet and who couldn't be more suitable than Sansa?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, next chapter will come soon.
> 
> Thanks for leaving kudos and comments!
> 
> I own nothing, every character belongs to George R.R. Martin.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Next chapter Sansa

Tywin II

_“Why. Are. You. Here?”_

Tywin demanded to know as soon as Genna walked into his room. He shot her an evil glance. She hadn’t visited him for _days_. She hadn’t even called him. Nor did his children. It wasn’t as if it was their duty. Tywin snorted. As if any of them understood something about _duty_.

They had abandoned him. It was a punch straight into his face. But he would never show his hurt pride. He was a Lannister after all. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and watched Genna approaching. His green eyes were flashing with hardly concealed anger. He should get rid of all of them. _That_ would be much better.

Nevertheless, Genna didn’t seem to be undeterred. She kept coming closer and closer and sat down on another chair. _Where the fucking hell did she get that chair?_ He hadn’t even noticed that his room had a _second_ chair. He _didn’t_ want her to sit. She didn’t deserve it.

Only then, she spoke. Her behavior was _most_ ridiculous. “It seems to me you are well enough if you can grumble already.“, she said drily.

“I’m leaving for Casterly Rock tomorrow. I have urgent business to attend to.”

“I _knew_ you would abandon me finally.” he spit. He was really hurt. _How could_ _she_.

“Oh Tywin” she sighed, sensing is hurt pride. “You know, I could never abandon you.”

Internal, he beamed at her words, nevertheless he continued glaring.

She _deserved_ it after all.

 

Genna paused. She seemed as if she wanted to say something else, but didn’t. She really was _odd_ today.

_Did she think he had time for chatting and drinking tea?_ He _hadn’t_. He needed to return to his company before someone did something stupid. Hopefully it hadn’t happened already. He didn’t trust his employees and he had already spent far too much time at this place. Nevertheless, Genna didn’t say anything. He was losing his patience.

“Do you want to say anything else?” he muttered. He wanted to finish this useless conversation as soon as possible.

She seemed to choose her words with great care. “Yes, well, as I’ve already said, I’m leaving and I employed a housekeeper. She’s a decent and very nice young woman. She will take good care of you and Tyrion.” She glanced at him. “She’s living with you.”

He blinked at her while his brain worked harder and harder. _Did he hear her correctly? A housekeeper? In his house?_

“I don’t need a housekeeper”, he wanted to claim, but as soon as he opened his mouth, he was interrupted by a furious Genna. “Oh, be quiet and listen. You can’t do any of the chores! Do you want your house and clothes be a mess? And what do you want to eat?”

He glared furiously back. _How dare she?_ She had never been disrespectful before.

“Did you say she’s living in _my_ house?” “Yes, Tywin. Do you have a problem with it?”

He was far too shocked to answer her question. _Did she think he was made out of gold?_ A housekeeper was utterly unnecessary. He could live on his very own very well. “Tyrion can take care of me since he has nothing else to do.”

“Tyrion is leading the company in your absence.”

He saw himself gaping like a fish in the opposite window. He closed his jaw and opened it again. He didn’t know what to say. It was the first time in his life.

“ _What_ is he doing?” he whispered. He tried to stand, but failed. He had completely forgotten about his plastered leg.

She was as cool as a cucumber as she rose with grace and passed him. “Calm yourself, Tywin. She _isn’t_ evil. I’m sure you will like her. And you are currently _not_ in a position to make decisions.”

  

Sometime later inside of the car….

He _had_ to ask. „Does she have a college degree?“ “No, Tywin she has not.”

“Why should I like her then? Probably she just wants money. I don’t want _her_.” he complained. “Tyrion will take care of me. He’s my son after all. And where are _you_ going?”

“Tywin, please, listen to me-“ Genna tried to calm him, but he _didn’t want_ to listen. He didn’t even wanted to hear her voice anymore. He was disgusted. “You will leave me alone with a _savage_.” He spit the last words. He did loathe the north, it was cold (He had been there, one time in summer if you could call it summer. _Ha!_ It hadn’t been warm and it _hadn’t_ been summer. _Snow_ had actually fallen!), the people were all feral and now he should live with one! _How could she!_

He _didn’t_ deserve it.

 

* * *

Genna was pushing his wheelchair up the ramp to his front door. He _hated_ sitting in a wheelchair. He felt useless _and_ like an old man, even though he was just in the middle of his sixties.

The door opened and Tyrion appeared. His son wasn’t supposed to be here. _Didn’t he send him away?_ Tywin glared at him, but didn’t say anything to his son. It would be useless.

“ _Pleasant_ afternoon to you as well, father. It must be the first time we’re on eye-level. Welcome to _my_ world.” Tyrion said with a small bow before he turned. He heard Genna sighing. _Why was everyone acting so ridiculous today?_ They should be delighted that he returned from hospital. He was the kindness itself as every day. He treated everyone with the respect he deserved. _That_ was just fair.

She brought him into his living room and left him there. Minutes passed. Nothing changed and she didn’t come back. He glanced impatiently around him. _Ah_! A telephone. Nobody had given him or letting him use a phone during the last weeks. They said it was all just for his health! _As if anything could disconcert him!_ Well, now he had one and no one could prevent him from using it. He snorted. _Who should he call first?_

He tried to move his wheelchair to the little table near the window. It didn’t move at all. He could move neither forwards nor backwards. _What was wrong?_ He touched the brakes on his wheelchair wheels. They were both locked. He had to open them if he wanted to move. The left one opened with ease, but the right one was trickier. By the time he got it, he could feel sweat running down his neck. He had to do this quickly. Nevertheless, he moved his wheelchair carefully over the floor and carpet until he could nearly touch the phone. His muscles of his left arm began to ache. He only needed to stretch his arm a little bit wider now and then he would have his phone. He moved his body to the left, bent himself over his wheelchair wheel as far as possible and eventually grabbed the phone.

Just as his fingers had touched the phone, he heard steps approaching. He sighed. This day was indeed awful.

He glanced over his shoulder. _How long did he have?_ He didn’t want to be caught. Quickly, he put the phone into his coat pocket and made his way back to his former place before the window. Tywin noticed it was bleak. Trees were bending in the strong wind. The steps came nearer, but stopped suddenly. _Why so reluctant?_ He could see the reflections of Genna and of another woman (not that he actually cared who she was) in the window before him.

_What did they want?_      

Nevertheless, he kept looking out of the window into his garden. He could see leaves lying on the ground. He must winterize his garden before frost and snow came and destroyed everything. Eventually Genna cleared her throat. _How long did she actual take for that?_

“Tywin, this is Sansa, your new housekeeper.” He didn’t react at all ( _he didn’t want anything from them, so why should he say anything?)_. Nevertheless, he felt Genna’s questioning gaze on his back. Not that he cared. He saw a cat creeping through his garden. “He is sometimes a bit difficult.” _Pah!_ _As_ _if!_ “I can hear you, you know.” He said through clenched teeth while turning his wheel chair with such force he grimaced from the sharp pain he felt in his left upper arm. He faced the two of them with a furious glare. The _woman_ didn’t flinch. Neither did Genna. _What a_ _pity_. Couldn’t they just leave him alone?

He smirked.

_Why didn’t he try anything new?_

“Well, Genna, it seems as if I must have forgotten her name.” He tried to sound as friendly as possible. _Be patient_ , he told himself. His feigned friendliness payed off. Genna seemed glad, she had always been easy to deceive. “Her name is Sansa, Tywin.” _What a stupid name._

He moved his hand carefully into his coat pocket. His phone was still there. Quickly he pressed one of the speed dial keys on the phone. A second later, he could hear the loud alarm of the alarm system going on.

Genna looked very bemused, visibly taken by surprise. “The alarm system must be activated.” She seemed to say it more to herself than to someone particularly in the room.

_What a coincidence. They were just having such a pleasant conversation. It was a pity._ Genna would have to leave them and turn it off.

He waited. Genna seemed still a bit lost. “Well, I will leave you alone now.” _Wise_ _decision_.

He waited until Genna had left the room before he ordered her to approach him. He eyed her from head to toe suspiciously. She was slender, had ivory skin (as pale as the snow in the cursed waste she called home) and red hair braided in a simple braid. _Not that he cared at all_ , it was just a simple observation.

He wanted her to flinch from his eyes, but _nothing_ happened. In contrast, she hold his gaze apparently unimpressed. _How interesting_.

She didn’t say anything, but not out of fear. Her eyes were gleaming in the twilight. _Why was she so calm?_ He didn’t like it at all.

He shifted in his seat. He grew uncomfortable. She wasn’t supposed to be like _that_. She was supposed to be afraid of him and small in mind and appearance. Nevertheless, she faced him and waited for him to make the first move.

He couldn’t bear her towering before him any longer. She was making him nervous. He instructed her to sit. She did as he bid her without questioning him. He could tell she was moving with grace through the room. She sat down gracefully on the sofa and looked at him patiently.

_How could he make her leave him?_

“Listen to me, woman. As you see, I don’t have time or patience for a housekeeper. We will tell Genna how well we get along and after she leaves, I will pay you whatever you want and you can go back in the cold waste you call north and we will never see us again.” He tried a convincingly smile. “How does this sound to you?”

She arched an eyebrow.

“You _can’t_ dismiss me. Mrs. Lannister predicted you would dismiss me at first sight, therefore she employed me.”

He hadn’t expected _that_. _Why does Genna have to interfere in everything?_ It was _really_ annoying in the long run.

“What do you want? _Gold_? _Money_? I can give you twice what she pays.”

She pursed her lips at that. She wasn’t smiling anymore. “ _No_ ” she said determinedly while she shook her head. “I am sorry, but I have to reject your offer, Mr. Lannister. You can’t dismiss me and I _do_ like this job very much.” He glared at her. Then she leant forward and whispered to him with a smile.

“ _You don’t want Genna to know what you did with the phone, don’t you?”_

 

He clenched his fists at that. His Body boiled with rage.

_Oh how he hated her_.

_She was hundred times worse than Genna._


	6. Cold waste you call Home_Sansa II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing! I've never actually thought, someone would read such a stuff, but I wanted to give it a try. And now 35 kudos! Can't believe it <3
> 
> Thank you guys!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last evening, I looked through my sister's DVD collection and I finally found 'The Help'. It is one of my favourite movies and as I'm writing a story about a housekeeper I decided to watch it again. It gives so much material to work on for my Story. This movie is really amazing. It releases so many emtotions every time in my heart. If some of you havn't watched it yet, check it out!
> 
> Disclaimer: Every character belongs to George R.R. Martin.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sansa II

_Oh how she hated him._

He was such a snob.                                                           

He was an _arrogant_ , _narcissistic_ _old_ _man_ , who thought he could buy everything with money.

 

He had wanted to buy her as well, but she rejected. She had actually could say yes, take the money and simply disappear out of his life. She really wanted to. But after he said these awful words to her, she got so angry. So very angry. She had clenched her tiny fists at that, wanted nothing more than to jump up from her seat and shake him until he took these words back.

It was _her_ home after all, the only one she knew.

He _didn’t_ _know_ what it was to live with the little she had earned in the last years, he _didn’t_ _know_ how it was to not know how to pay the bills every month and _how_ it was to be reliant on a job with a person, she loathed from heart. He _didn’t_ care for anything, _oh no_ , he was just sitting there in his chair and shooed everyone around.

 _No_ , he _didn’t_ _shoo_ everyone around. He _expected_ them to move and do without question just as it occurred to him. Moreover, _no_ _one_ should question him.

She laughed hoarsely.

She needed air to breath.

Somehow, she made her way out of the house, down into the garden, but she couldn’t stop hearing his contemptuous voice, growing louder and louder inside of her head.

_“cold waste you call HOME”_

_“cold waste you call home cold waste you call home cold waste you call home cold waste you call home cold waste you call home COLD WASTE YOU CALL HOME cold waste you call home cold waste you call home cold waste you call home cold waste you call home cold waste you call home COLD WASTE YOU CALL HOME_ **_cold waste you call home cold waste you call NORTH_ ** _”_

 _“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”_ she screamed out from deep inside of her, down in the gardens, far away from the house, where no one could hear her. It was making her sick.

She desperately pressed her hands on her ears. She wanted it to stop, but it didn’t happen.

She wanted to fall down on her knees on the hard ground. Wanted to return _home_. But she couldn’t.

He had been disrespectful to her and her home. Had trampled on ancient guest rights. Had shamed and mocked her as if her whole life was a joke. That had been the moment, she had decided she wouldn’t accept his offer. She wouldn’t make things so easy for him.

 

Her _honour_ as a Stark forbade her to accept.

Her _honour_ as a Stark forbade her to break her promise.

Her _honour_ as a Stark forbade her to betray Genna.

Her father would be so proud of her. It was the least she could do for him _and_ for herself.

 

* * *

She was disgusted. She came all the way south for what? For an embittered man. She could tell he was embittered, even if he tried to look calm like a shadow or something like that, but his body posture and his behavior spoke another language. Today had been her first days his official housekeeper. It hadn’t been easy. She couldn’t say she didn’t like her work or the house (the house was lovely with its bright lighted rooms and gothic windows, which reached from floor to ceiling in every room), it was _him._ But she had promised Genna to give it at least a try.

She sighed. Genna had told her it would be difficult, but she had decided to stay nonetheless. She trusted Genna. She was kind, wholehearted and most of all warm.

A month ago, after she had lost her job and couldn’t stand the thought of being helpless anymore, she had told Rickon. He had already known. She wasn’t surprised. Despite of his knowledge, he hadn’t said anything, but waited for her to tell. He knew it was her decision to face the truth. She was thankful for that. She needed the time to recover, to heal. She doubted to be whole again eventually.

The day after that, she went to Wintertown. Her decision was certain. She would leave the north and find work. That was how she had met Genna.

“You have to know something about Tywin, Sansa.” Genna said to her one time, “You have to know it if you want to understand him. Tywin has always been difficult. Nevertheless, he is one the greatest men I’ve ever met, but surely the most difficult. What I try to say is that he is _not_ infallibly, even if he believes it.” She paused. “His wife, Joanna, died in childbed after giving birth to Tyrion. He was utterly disturbed over that. He has never ever recovered. He loved her very much, but her death changed him. His children suffered from her death as well, most of all Tyrion, but Tywin became unapproachable.” Genna looked her straight into her eyes. Tears were welling in her eyes. Sansa had to come closer to hear Genna’s whispered final words. “He loathes Tyrion for what happened. He makes her responsible for her death. Don’t ever speak about her in Tywin’s presence or show that you know. It’s for our all best.”

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning, Sansa brought Genna to the train station. They had eaten breakfast in a diner next to the station. “Sansa”, Genna told her as she put on her scarf, “you can call me whenever you need something. Always.” Sansa smiled at that. “I will try my best.” Genna closed the little distance between them and gave her a hug. “May the seven bless you, Sansa.” Sansa was still taken by surprise by Genna’s physicality and friendliness. Both had tears in their eyes, but Sansa forbade herself to give in. She tried a smile. “Safe journey, Genna. I hope to see you again soon.”

After the backlights of the train had disappeared in the fog, Sansa made her way down to the car (she had never ever driven such a luxury ca before in her life, it got seat heating and every luxury you could wish for, but she supposed if you were the head of a company, you drove such a thing) and drove back to her new home. She only took a short stop at a bakery to buy something for breakfast for Tyrion and Tywin.

She took a sip from the coffee she had made for herself while she considered what she could do. She could go back to her room and try to fall asleep again, it was still very early in the morning, but she doubted she could sleep. Genna had given her a plan with all her duties, they were many, but nothing new to her, she thought she could handle them.

She took her cup and opened the patio door in the living room. Her mother always said fresh air was good for health. She stepped outside onto a large sandstone patio. Rambler roses were growing on the wall of the house. The garden must be beautiful in summer. She saw trees, bushes and in the far behind water (was it a pool?). She remembered the pools in the north. They contained heated water, that was why you could swim in them even in deepest of winter. She didn’t think this did. Nevertheless, the very thought of it made her happy. Genna had told her that the garden was Tywin’s sanctuary. She couldn’t only see its beauty, but sense it as well. It had all kind of flowers, but sadly no winter roses.

She was so charmed by tits loveliness that she didn’t hear Tyrion approaching. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? It seems so calm and pristine as if it could last forever. It is the only thing my father loves.” Sansa looked at him. He didn’t seem sad or embittered. He hid his pain deep inside of him. _It is an odd family_ , Sansa thought. She understood Genna why she employed her. She wanted to save this family. It was _family_ after all. It had been right to stay. Maybe she could help them. And maybe she would heal too.

Sansa hadn’t noticed that she had looked at Tyrion all the time. She looked away and watched the first rays of sun appearing in the sky and playing with the cold air. “You’re already awake?” she asked him. She hadn’t expected him to be an early person. “Since I’m leading the company I have to say sadly yes.” “Why sadly?” He looked into the sky, she could tell his mind was somewhere else. “I always used to stay up early. Sometimes I read a book or two in these hours, I always looked forward to them. I fear sleep doesn’t like me very much, but these hours have always been the epitome of calm. Nobody is up, it is only you and the world. You can _feel_ beauty. Look.” She followed his gaze over the sky and saw a swarm of birds drawing their circles in the sky. “Now dark thoughts follow me around everywhere I go. They are strongest in these hours.” She sensed he didn’t want to speak further, so she turned her face to the sun and watched. _No_ , she thought deep inside of her, it _isn’t_ just watching. _It’s feeling its beauty_.

 

Some time later she went back into the kitchen. The nurse from hospital would come soon to wash and dress Tywin. She was glad she didn’t have to do that. She refilled her cup and thought about her conversation with Tyrion. She liked him very much. She couldn’t understand _why_ his father hated him, but she had seen it with her own eyes during yesterday’s dinner.

_Life wasn’t fair._

She had learned it the hard way.

 

Tyrion came not long after her into the kitchen. “Let me help you” he said. She gave him some spoons and bowls for the porridge. The kitchen was friendly and warm. She felt comfortable here, in this grand house. She had never believed she would see something like that. Now she lived here. She felt thrilled. As she came here for the first time she felt lost, she was stunned and afraid. She stirred the porridge once more. “I think it’s finished”

In the meantime, Tywin came down. He looked displeased. She shrugged her shoulders, turned and faced both of them with a bright a smile. “ _Porridge_ ” Tywin muttered disgusted at the very sight of it. He pushed his bowl away. “Your decision” she said and sat down. She didn’t care about his opinion, she tried to tell this herself at least. She saw Tyrion watching her all the way through this odd conversation, his face blank, but his eyes gleaming with interest. She shook her head. She must be wrong. She didn’t see anything special. Her mind was just playing games with her.

 _I’m only tired,_ she told herself.

After Tyrion had left the house (he was going on a business trip somewhere in Essos, she couldn’t remember the name of the place, but it sounded exotic) she cleaned the kitchen. Tywin, or Mr. Lannister how she called him, was somewhere in the living room or library. He said he had some urgent business to attend to, not that she believed him, but she didn’t say anything. It was better this way. She could feel the tension between them, she couldn’t tell why, but Tywin had been angry the minute he entered the kitchen.

She went upstairs, passed thereby several paintings. Some of them showed the landscape of the Westerlands. She had never been there. She imagined herself in some of the gleaming cities. _She_ _couldn’t_. She didn’t belong there.

She was standing on the landing. She decided to turn right and go to Tywin’s room. She opened the door and stopped. Everything was in a dark red, even the four poster bed. She stepped closer. She could see that little golden lions were stitched on his bedding. Sansa admired the stitching. They were so perfect. She didn’t think even she could do something like that. As she took the blanket (it was smooth silk and red as well) it seemed as if the lions were moving. She had never seen something like that.

She was running the silk between her index finger and thumb as she heard a muffled cry and then a clink, which sounded suspiciously like broken glass. She left his room at once and run downstairs. His wheel chair was in the entrance hall (How did it get there? It was a mystery to her.), but there was no sign of Tywin. She began to worry. Hopefully, he hadn’t hurt himself. She decided to try her luck in the kitchen. She didn’t know what she expected to find, but not _that_. She tried to restrain her laughter. Tywin was lying on his back on the floor, grumbling to himself. She couldn’t understand a single word, but as soon as he heard her his eyes were glaring daggers at her. “I thought I would lie here forever.”

She tried to help him on a chair, but he rejected.

“Don’t touch me” he spat. “You are as useful as the great waste you call _home.”_

Sansa brought him his wheelchair and left him without another word.

 

She knew now, why the job was so well payed.

_What an irony of fate._

She laughed.

 

She wouldn’t let _him_ destroy her. She wouldn’t let him do that.

It wasn’t his right. It was just _hers_.

  

* * *

  

She was running her hands down her upper arms to warm up. _Winter is coming._

She took a breath. The days were already getting colder.

_Winter was coming._

She shivered.

As she went back through the frosty garden, she didn’t look up to the upper windows. If she had, she would have seen a man, sitting on a chair behind a window and looking down on her, his green gleaming eyes following her every step as they had done the whole day.

Suddenly he _felt_ ashamed.

However, she didn’t notice.


	7. Tywin III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another insight of Tywin.  
> Old lucked up memories and feelings find their way back into his heart. Can he face the ghosts of his past?  
> It's a bit long, hope you don't mind!

Tywin III

 

_You're the light inside my eyes_

_You give me a reason to keep try_

_You give me more than I could dream_

_And you bring me to my knees_

_You bring me to my knees_

 

He found her in the living room, sitting on the settee and staring into the hearth. Her mind was somewhere else, haunting memories and _worse_. He felt the urge to hold her and bring her back to life.

“ _Sansa_ ”, he said as gently as he could as he made his way towards her. It was the first time he said it aloud. She lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes for only the briefest of moments. Nevertheless, he could see that her blue eyes didn’t sparkle anymore. Her fire was gone, only leaving an emptiness that made him feel as if everything was gone. It was all a mirror to her shattered soul. He didn’t ask _why_. It wasn’t his right to _ask_. Instead of it, he took her hand in his and squeezed it carefully. Sometimes it was the right thing to remain silent and not to speak.

Her hand was as cold as ice, but he didn’t care that the icy cold burned slowly into his skin. He warmed her small hand between his hands as he had done a long time ago. Memories flooded his mind, he found himself in another room, another life. _“Why?” she asked him again and again as tears run down her cheeks. Her green eyes contained such an emptiness that he wanted to shake her. He was afraid she could give in. He didn’t want to lose her. Not her. Two times the gods gave them happiness, gave them the joy of a new life growing inside of her, but every time they took it away. Why were the gods so cruel? “Shhh” he whispered into her hair as he gently caressed her back with his hands even though he didn’t want anything else than to give into his own grief. However, he didn’t allow it. He couldn’t let his feelings take control of him. He would break if he did. He felt her hot breath on his neck, felt the tears soaking his shirt, but he didn’t have an answer for her question. He didn’t know why, had asked himself and the gods a thousand times. But they had never answered him. He felt hot tears welling in his eyes, but he blinked them angrily away. All he could was just to hold her, feeling her near to him. It was the only thing that prevented him from crying._

He didn’t know how long he had hold her hand. Now it was as warm as his, but nevertheless he didn’t want to let it go. He felt something wet running down his cheek. He wiped it angrily away.

She met his gaze then. Even though the room was dark, the fire in the hearth gave enough light to let him notice that she was much calmer now. He hadn’t noticed that she had watched him, he had been so lost in his thoughts. However, he didn’t feel embarrass. He felt somehow comfortable in her presence and not exposed. That was an entirely new feeling for him. He felt his tummy rumbling. He needed something to eat and she as well.

“Why don’t we order something for supper?” he asked her quietly after he had locked his feelings up once more. “I’m sure we have the telephone number of a northern restaurant. Or do you prefer something Dornish?”

                                                                                                                                                      

* * *

  

He squeezed her hand once more before he left the room. It was better to give her some room, to let her find her way back to herself. If it should work out between them (he wasn’t entirely sure it would), she needed to be strong. And not foolish, surrounded by anger and let it weaken you. He _knew_ she could be clever. He had seen it in her eyes as she _dared_ to threaten him yesterday. He hadn’t forgotten it (and he didn’t think he would ever). His memory was still excellent despite his age. In some moments, she was as cold as ice, unapproachable, but in others, she gave in her dark thoughts. He couldn’t decide if he should pity, like or simply hate her. She was an absolute mystery to him. Slowly, he rolled his wheel chair into the kitchen. Something shattered under one of his wheels. He turned and carefully picked one of the splinters. Even in the dim light of the room he could tell what it was.

 _It was a piece of glass_.

He felt his green eyes darkening.

 

* * *

  

_Sometime during the morning:_

Tywin Lannister opened his green eyes. He felt cool silk under his hands and knew he was home. _Finally_. It would be a good day. Waking up in his own bed, especially in one of his most favourite beddings (a present from his wife) was a blessing. He liked crimson, it was the colour of his house after all, so why shouldn’t everything in his room be in crimson colours? He remembered what Joanna’s reaction was as he showed it to her after the maintenance works of the house. She had asked him if it wasn’t a bit too much. She didn’t seem to like it. He couldn’t tell why. In his opinion, the room looked absolutely perfect with its crimson silk beddings, dark red silk wall coverings and with all the little golden lions, stitched on nearly everything. They were even in the carpet. He simply couldn’t understand Joanna. He couldn’t even understand her now after all these years. And it was useless to try now because she was dead.

As always in the morning, he opened the top drawer of his bedside table (dark ebony wood, but with golden ornaments, the only thing his wife considered as “ _nice_ ”) and took a photography out of it. It was the only one he had kept after her death. He traced her face with one of his fingers, imaging what her skin had felt like and closed his eyes. How he wished he could see her just once more. The morning was the only time he allowed himself to remember, it was the only time he could be weak and no one would notice. Her presence gave him always strength, but during all these years, he forgot more and more things of her. Sometimes he couldn’t even remember her face anymore.

_He loathed himself for that._

Punctually as always, the nurse visited him. She came three times a day (Genna had arranged it, he would never have never done it himself), once in the morning to dress and wash him (it was a very degrading treatment and he disliked it very much), one time in the afternoon and then sometime in the evening. As soon as Genna returned, he would get back at Genna. Thanks to her, he had now _two complete strangers_ in _his_ home! And he couldn’t do anything against it. Gladly, the nurse was a southerner. He didn’t know what he had done if they were _both_ from the north. “Are you fussing again?” the nurse (he couldn’t remember her name, he had decided that he didn’t care about it or her) greeted him as friendly as ever. She didn’t seem to like this job. If it were he, he wouldn’t like it either. The first few times he had glared at her every time she entered the room and tried to get rid of her, but not soon after that, he noticed that it was utterly useless. Whatever he did (and he had to admit he had done much), didn’t work out. She was emotionless and completely unfriendly. And the worst part was that she was only amused about his outbursts. Moreover, she could make him flinch sometimes. He couldn’t move, so he was completely at her mercy. And he hated _that_ very much.

After the nurse had left him finally (not that he was glad about her leaving, he feared nothing), he let out a deep breath. Eventually, it was breakfast time. He was very delighted at the idea of food. Not that he expected much, but there should be oven warm bread, cakes, maybe some pancakes (he hadn’t had any for a while) and most important _tea_. He felt his mouth watering at the only thought of it. He desperately _needed_ something to eat.

The previous owner had been an old man and therefore he had built in a small elevator in the back of the house. First, he found it utterly useless (he didn’t think he would use it ever and wanted to throw it out), but now he was glad that Joanna persuaded him to keep it. He really missed her even after all these years. Angrily he pushed her face out of his mind, he didn’t want to think about her now. It would only make him weak. Moreover, he couldn’t show weakness now. He must find a way to get rid of his housekeeper and this quickly.

As he made his way to the kitchen, the first thing he could hear was _laughter_. He was utterly disturbed. _Nobody_ had laughed in his house during the past years. It made him feel uneasy. Nevertheless, he was a bit curious about what was happening. Quickly, he rolled his wheel chair next to the kitchen door and glanced into it. His son was there, talking with _his_ housekeeper as if _they_ had known each other for years. He snorted. Gladly his son would leave them today. He didn’t have to see him for two full weeks. _It was truly a blessing_.

The smell of porridge was suddenly in the air. He remembered Joanna cocking porridge as he was sick. It hadn’t happened often, but nevertheless, he still remembered _all_ of these moments. And now this _foreigner_ , this _awful_ _woman_ from the north thought she could simply come here in his house, live on _his_ expanse and do whatever she liked? After his wife’s death, he had forced himself to go on with his life, locked up all of his feelings inside of him but now, they _returned_. _Every one of them_ , _every single moment_ , he saw it all before his eyes. He clenched his fists. He wanted to fire her at once, but then he saw her eyes. They were blue, of such a deep blue that he felt his pounding heart slowing down at once. Her presence was overwhelming. He couldn't do nothing more than to look at her.

However, his own suggestibility made him angry once more. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He felt Tyrion’s eyes on him but he shot him an evil glare. It wasn’t _his son’s_ business. Only _his_. He decided he couldn’t eat the porridge in the bowl she placed before him. It would only bring back memories, which he had tried to hide during the last thirty years. He had never ever faced them. He hadn’t dared because of his fear what could happen to him if he did. Suddenly, he was disgusted by himself.

After breakfast, he went out on the patio. The sun was shining so warm and nicely that he wanted to be in his garden. It was one of the only places where could be alone. He didn’t want to be disturbed.

_He had to think._

The fresh air calmed his nerves at once. He took a deep breath of winter air. He felt much better now. No feelings clouded his mind, he could think straight again.

 _He needed to call Varys_.

Hopefully, he had the information he needed. He wanted to finish this _unpleasant_ business as soon as possible. “ _My dear friend_ ” the answering machine whispered after the first ring. ”it seems that _urgent_ _business_ require my current attention. Please try it again later or leave a message after the beep.” He snorted. As if Varys had _urgent_ _business_ to attend to. But he knew Varys would call him as soon as he could. They were _friends_ after all.

He went back into the house, looking for a special book as he noticed how hungry he was. He glanced at his pocket watch. It was around midday. He needed to eat something. He had skipped breakfast after all. So, he opened the fridge, but he couldn’t find anything worth to eat except the leftovers of the morning. _Porridge_. At the only sight of it he grimaced. In the end, he took the porridge nonetheless. He dipped one of his fingers into it and tasted it. _Mhh, it wasn’t that bad._ He could taste oat, milk and something else that he couldn’t name. He had expected worse. He took a spoon and ate more than the half of the porridge in no time at all until he remembered he didn’t want her to notice. With a sigh he put the porridge back in the fridge (he decided it was truly outstanding and worth that he ate it) and closed the door. Maybe he could ask her to make it again for tomorrow’s breakfast…… _No!_ He _couldn’t_ ask her. It would be degrading _._ He felt the sudden urge to have a drink. After Tyrion’s escapades with drinking, he began to hide his best wines and drinks in several places where Tyrion couldn’t find them so that he could keep them for himself.

One of these places was the kitchen. He didn’t want to drink out of the bottle, he needed a glass. It would be a bit tricky to get one but he thought he could manage it. Moving his chair to the sink wasn’t that difficult. The glasses were in the cupboard over it, so he would only have to stand up quickly and pick one. He rested his good arm on the lower cupboard and pulled himself up. Fortunately, he had opened the cupboard door with a broomstick before, he couldn’t have opened it now. He felt his head becoming dizzy. He needed to move quickly. With all his remaining strength he pushed himself off of the lower cupboard and tried to grab a glass. However, as soon as he felt it in his hands, he lost his balance. With a low cry he fell on his back onto the floor. At once, he felt a sharp pain coming from his leg. He pressed his lips tightly together. He wouldn’t show any pain. Hopefully, the glass wouldn’t fall upon him. He didn’t have the desire to visit the hospital again.

He shut his eyes closed as he heard the shatter of glass. He felt like an old fool. How could he think he could do it without help? He couldn’t move or stand up without help. He could do nothing by himself. And now he was lying _here_ on the floor and waiting for _her_ to help. Angry hot tears welled into his eyes, but he forbade himself to give in.

It took her an eternity to come. The moment she entered the room her presence was flooding his mind and he couldn’t think of anything else. But then, he saw the sparkles of laughter into her eyes and he felt _hurt_. In this moment, he could only think that he wanted her to _leave_. He wanted her to go away and never come back. He _didn’t_ want her to _touch_ him, _didn’t_ want to _look_ into these _laughing_ _eyes_ , _didn’t_ want to _feel_. He told himself he had to protect himself. So, he pushed her away from him and told her she could go back “ _to the cold waste she called home_ ”.

He could tell he had hurt her much with his words as he watched her with a regretful feeling leaving the room with such a grace he couldn’t do nothing more than to admire her. He saw how all life left her eyes, leaving her blue eyes empty as if something had broken inside. He wanted to shout after her, wanted to tell her how sorry he was, but he _didn’t._ He simply  _couldn’t_. The worst part was that he _knew_ that _he_ was the one who was responsible for this, that he was the one who had done that and acted like a fool because he was _afraid_.

He felt ashamed, so ashamed that he felt his heart tighten at the only thought of her, felt it shatter in pieces as it had happened a long time ago. He needed to look after her, he didn’t want to lose her.

 

Finally, he found her in the garden and he wanted nothing more than to hold her close and give her strength as he saw her small frame shudder in the cold, as he saw her ire and anger leaving her body until everything what was left was an emptiness that left him shuddering.

 

He hadn’t expected anything of it to happen.

And then he went into the living room.

  

* * *

  

Some time later, he heard the doorbell ringing. He opened the door and the usual delivery boy stood before him. “’Evening Mr. Lannister.” he said as soon as the door opened. “Good evening.” he greeted Sandor Clegane as he looked up at him. He hadn’t had ever felt so small in his life. It was really intimidating. Sandor Clegane must have noticed his unease because he chose the moment to carry on. “Lamb with honey and lemon, spicy chicken, pite, a dozen Dornish Cream Cakes and Pomegranate Syrup for you?” “Yes that’s it.” He was very glad that it was Sandor Clegane and not another delivery boy (not that _he_ trusted him, he didn’t trust anyone, but he liked him more than the other ones). He took him for an honest and accommodating young man. Sandor would never make a comment about his dreadful _current_ _situation_ and he was utterly glad about it. Fortunately, Sansa (she was still a bit too pale for his taste) chose the moment to appear and took the food inside.

He gave Sandor a large tip as always but he was not able to avoid the look Sandor gave _his_ housekeeper. Somehow, he didn’t like it. Fortunately, Sandor got manners and left without asking stupid questions. He hadn’t answered them anyway.

 

* * *

 

He was glad that she ate some of the food, not much but enough to ease his worries. Shortly after that, she retreated to her own room and he kept sitting before the hearth, staring into the flames and asking himself how something like that could have happened to him. This thought still haunted his mind as he made it finally into bed and willed himself to sleep. However, this time the gods answered his prayers.

 

_“Tywin”, he heard Joanna’s voice whispering next to his ear. Gentle fingertips traced over his chest, leaving his skin hot wherever she touched him. He never wanted her to stop. Slowly she lowered herself onto him and bent down to meet his lips. Her lips were as soft as they had always been. He gave into the kiss, moving his lips against hers while her hands kept running over his chest. He hummed. He did like that very much. Slowly, she began to suck his bottom lip and sliding her hungry tongue over it until he opened his mouth to give her a way in it. Carefully, she fondled his tongue. He felt how his own blood run hot with desire. He couldn’t do anything else than to caress her own as well. He wanted to do nothing more than to run his hands over her body, feel her soft skin and flesh under his fingers, but as soon as he moved them, she gently placed them back on the bed. “Shh, my Lion.” she whispered into his lips before she kissed him softly again, moving her hips gently against his. He couldn’t suppress a groan. Her hands moved over his sleeping shirt, opening button by button. “Do you want to touch me?” she asked innocently. Willingly he let her take hold of his hand and felt the soft flesh of her breast under his hands. She let him caress her breasts until she felt her nipples stiffen under his touch before she moved his hand further down. His hand was eager to feel what she gave him. Fingers were sliding through curls, all the way down before he noticed the delicious dampness spreading over her folds. She rubbed herself against his fingers, letting his fingers brush against her sensitive nub. She let out an encouraging moan. “Do you like what you found?” she asked him while she bent down once more and licked his ear shell with her malicious tongue. He could do nothing more than to hum at the sensation. “Open your eyes, my proud, golden Lion” she whispered right into his ear. Slowly, he opened them and saw straight into the face of his beautiful wife. He sat up to kiss his young wife. His lips brushed over hers. “You’re so beautiful.” he whispered into her skin before his green eyes met hers again. “You’re too.” she said softly. Her eyes showed so many feelings, but love was one of the brightest that let her eyes gleam. He wanted to kiss her again as he noticed something was wrong. Her hair wasn’t golden anymore, now it was auburn. As soon as he noticed the change, he wanted to move back but somehow he couldn’t. Her blue eyes held his gaze, sparkling with a fire he had only seen one time before. “Tywin” he heard her whispering again as she followed his movements. “Oh my golden lion.”_

_It was love._

_And he knew his eyes showed the same._

 

Tywin Lannister awoke with a low cry. He was utterly disturbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it took me quite a time to post this chapter, but until today this chapter didn't feel right as if something was missing. I don't know how often I can poste in the next weeks -it will be quite a busy time-, but I try to do it as often as possible. 
> 
> Lyrics are from 'Don't deserve you' by Plumb.
> 
> A new charcter will make his appearance in the next chapter!
> 
> Leave a comment if you want.


	8. The Westerlands_Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of two parts of the Westerlands......  
> I actually wanted to write this through only one POV, but it didn't turn out so well. Therefore we're going to meet some new characters in this chapter!
> 
> Thanks to everyone for leaving kudos! 
> 
> As always: Characters belong to George R.R. Martin
> 
> Enjoy!

_Cause once upon a time you were my everything_

_It’s clear to see that time hasn’t changed a thing_

_So thoughtful whisper do you think I’ll ever take you off_

_**********_  

Petyr

The first thing he felt was hot breath touching his lower body. A tongue, as soft as silk, but surprisingly pleasantly cool, drew small circles on his already heated skin. Warm lips gave him kisses so sweet and soft, he nearly couldn’t feel them. Her kisses were like the slightest guts of autumn winds he had ever felt in his long life, brushing sensitively over his heated skin with such a longing, he couldn’t evade himself entirely from it. He inhaled sharply as he felt her lips closing around his length, feeling the warmth of her mouth around him as she took him further in. At once, his heartbeat quickened, causing his impulsive blood to rush into his lower body parts with such a speed that he almost lost his conscience for a moment. He had to close his eyes as rosy lips began to suck him slowly with an even pace. He let out a low groan. The very feeling of it was almost too intense.

How his body reacted to her touch would have been truly amazing if he had any true affection for her, but _sadly_ he _hadn’t_. There was only one person he had affection for and it was definitively _not_ her. Nevertheless, she was the only one right now who could give him release. Thus, he gave her an encouragingly smile as he watched her worshipping his body through half-closed eyes, but she must have felt his gaze on her because she lifted her head deliberately and met his gaze. Brown tresses fell over her almond coloured shoulders, barely covering her wonderful soft breasts. He had made sure of it a lot of times.

He remembered the first time they had met each other. It had been a rainy day in Kings Landing and he was waiting at the corner of a street for a cab to escape the cold drops of icy rain. He desperately wanted to get back to his place and soak into a hot bath, his new black silk suit was already soaked and he shivered slightly from the cold. As he thought he couldn’t bear it any longer to wait another minute, a cab appeared out of the dark and thankfully stopped before him. He remembered how relieved he had been, he could already feel the first signs of a cold inside of him as he opened the door and felt the first warm whiff of air on his chilled through fingers. He just wanted to get into the car as he heard a female voice yelling “ _Wait!”._ He had been so irritated and startled that he almost winced and lost his grip on the door handle again. However as he recognized the voice, he had been so _excited_ because he couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t thought he could met her so soon and now she was within his reach. Nevertheless, he had to make sure she was the one he sought. Therefore, he turned and saw the expected woman running towards him. He was very pleased with himself and didn’t need to fake a smile of sincerity and warmth. Breathless, she stopped before him and looked him straight into his eyes.

Even in the rain, he sensed she was something special, she seemed somehow familiar and most importantly, she seemed to be the right person who could _help_ him. He had seen such a beauty only one time before, but it had been at the other end of Westeros, in the middle of nowhere and far away from this place. As he noticed the arising gleam in her eyes as her lips turned into a smile, he had already decided that it was worth to make her acquaintance. He was still a bit overwhelmed and thanked the darkness for concealing his excitedly gleaming eyes as he pointed at the cab. “Do you want to join me? I’m sure the driver won’t mind if there’s a second person.”

Of course, she had joined him and things took their course. After finding out that they were staying at the same place, they somehow decided to warm up together. He remembered how her fingers touched his fingertips coincidentally as they made their way to the elevator. He had been really surprised how eager she was to get into his room. Ordinary he preferred more innocent and inexperienced girls who had the shamefacedness of the youth, but she was a welcome diversion of his thoughts. She didn’t need any encouragement –he knew now she _never_ did- and before he could count to three she had _helped_ him to get out of his soaked clothes before they stepped into the bathtub. What followed was something so intensive and overwhelming, he simply couldn’t express it in words even now after some time.

He really enjoyed the time they had together - it was never a dull affair after all -, but he had the uncomfortable feeling that she was a player as well. Sometimes it made him feel a bit uneasy because he knew she could be dangerous to him if he was careless and told her accidentally about his schemes. He didn’t intend to leave her yet and loose his most reliable source of information about the Lannisters. Moreover, as long as he had the upper hand in their relation he felt quite safe and comfortable.

Every one of his acquaintances always thought, it were a coincidence that let them cross their paths. However, it was not – _never_. He studied _them_ closely and followed _them_ everywhere around for a certain time before he introduced himself to _them_. _They_ always were _so_ _excited_ to meet him finally, it was so easy to gain _their_ trust. All he needed to do was to act like the gentleman he was and give _them_ love and affection. _They_ _all_ dreamed of _true_ _love_. He gave it to _them_ , played the love-struck fool until _they_ weren’t of any use for him anymore. Only then, he left _them_ and the hunt began anew. Not that their lives didn’t mean anything to him, he gave them what they wanted after all. _Love_. _Happiness_. Sometimes _passion_ and _more_. However most importantly, they did the same for him.

Unfortunately, she still didn’t trust him entirely, even though they knew each over for quite a while now. But ‘knowing’ would be revealing too much. The only thought of it turned his lips into a smile.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him while her hands run over his chest, her big brown doe eyes studying his face closely. “Of you, darling, only of you…” he said quietly as he drew her closer to him and kissed her on the sweet lips of hers in an attempt to prevent her from further speaking. In his imagination, he saw another woman, a much more beautiful woman with red her and blue eyes like ice with much softer lips. She tasted like winter, but unfortunately, all that he could taste now was the fading scent of roses. He didn’t want this image to fade, so he closed his eyes again while Margaery bent her head down again to continue her praise of his body. He let his eyes closed and relaxed as she began to use her hands and eventually her mouth on his best parts once more. Only the image of Sansa, lying on his bed in a cream white silk chemise while she slowly spread her legs and let him see which magnificent kingdom awaited him, enabled him to spill his seed.

Sansa had been the only one who had been able to calm his stirred ash-grey soul and turn it into something colourful. Her laugh had given light into his life, her sheer joy of life had taken him to a place he had never visited before. Nevertheless, he had left her. Then, he only wanted to gain power and glory. He hadn’t seen what she meant for him then. Now he knew, she was the only one he wanted at his side. He worshipped and accepted her, but not because she simply gave herself to him, but because she did it with such a grace and innocence, with such a warmth and laughter and such a passion he was always taken aback when she presented herself to him and gave him something he knew he didn’t deserve.

The only thing he wanted to achieve now was to take her back.                   

She was _his_ after all. She was his equal.              

* * *

 

_Even heaven cries_

_Everybody cries_

_It's ok to doubt_

_Yourself sometimes_

_You don't have to be afraid_

_Of what you feel inside_  

_**********_

Margaery

One time she had asked Walder they didn’t just run away and start anew somewhere else. It could have been Essos or some lonely place behind the wall where no one could find them ever. In her imagination, it all seemed so _wonderful_. _Beautiful_. _So_ _devout_. She saw the morning sun rising over them, saw the winter wind blowing white snow through every tiny gap into their house and covering everything under snow.

The years would pass and seasons turn.

She saw herself holding a baby, pressing it to her chest until she could feel its small, even heartbeat again.       _Bum_.       _Bum_. _Bum._          _Bum._        She felt blood rushing through its veins, warming its body, showing that it was still alive. Little hands pulled on her hair, tiny fingers formed into a fist.     _Bum_.     _Bum_.     The baby was as strong as it should be.

 _Winter_ would end.                                                              

She saw herself watching her baby as it made its first wobbly steps on groggy legs. Walder would catch it before it fell on the soft padded floor. Harsh winter winds would change into something new. Flowers would grow and finally bloom. She would show her baby girl all the beauty of live she could find in it as her mother did a long time ago with her.

Roses would grow. _Summer_ was here.

They would be bathed in light. They would gleam like diamonds, sparkle in another country. They would be _happy_. But sometimes, when everything was too much for her and she couldn’t go any further, Walder would come to her. He would give her face the softest of kisses until she felt strong again.

He would tell her how _beautiful_ she was. How _proud_ he was of her. That _they_ could make it. 

She remembered what his eyes had looked like. They were from the same shade of green like the mossy green tree trunks of the forests in Highgarden she knew from her childhood. His eyes reminded her of _home_ , a place where she didn’t need to be afraid. A place where she felt safe and secure. A place where she got more than she deserved. She couldn’t forget.

She couldn’t remember his whole answer to her question as she asked him why they didn’t go away. All what she could remember were fragments and that he had said ‘ _I can’t_.’. His voice had been painfully quiet, his eyes so dull. She had seen how desperately he wanted to say ‘ _yes’,_ how desperately he wanted to come with her, but in the end he _didn’t_. She had been disappointed, felt _rejected_. Walder had tried to take her hand, but she just pushed him away. She didn’t want to be _touched_ by him, didn’t want to _feel_ his calming presence brushing over her mind and body, didn’t want to _breathe_ the same air as he did anymore. Moreover, she _didn’t_ want to be _calm_. She felt so hurt at his words, felt so _rejected_. She didn’t want him to see her tears, didn’t want him to notice how much it all wore her out, didn’t want to see the arising desperation in his breathtaking green eyes. All that she was able to do before her heart could persuade her body to throw herself into his waiting arms was to turn away and leave him there with a broken bleeding heart.

She swallowed heavily in an attempt to dissolve the arising lump in her throat. She only wanted to breathe again. The memory of Walder brought her back to a time she thought she had completely forgotten. To tell the truth she didn’t want to forget the moments of happiness she had discovered in the few moments they had shared. They meant much to her. However the worst was, that it had been herself who had taken it from them. And not accidentally, but on purpose.

It hadn’t been planned that the two of them became Lovers.

She never doubted Walder’s love to her, but it had been just a game for her. Her grandmother wanted her to meet him and become his friend to get access to the inner circle of the Lannisters. First, she told her greedy old grandmother the things she wanted to know and did what she told her to do without asking further questions. It was her grandmother after all, a person she could trust. However, something changed between Walder and her after some time. She began to feel a slight prickle on her skin every time she saw Walder. During this time, she made a decision. It was one of the most difficult decisions in her life. She didn’t want to pass private information of Walder or any of his family members to her grandmother anymore. She wanted to stop with it all and live her life with Walder. She told so her grandmother, but she only laughed.

After her rejection from Walder, she only wanted to vent her anger and pain. She wanted to hurt Walder, wanted to let him feel the same pain he had caused her. After their time together, she knew family meant everything to him. Therefore, she began with it. It wasn’t difficult because she knew so much. Her mind was much too heated, her injuries far too fresh as if she were aware of the consequences her missteps caused. Moreover, no one of her family cared for it. For them it was just a game and grandmother said everything was right what she did. However, for her it meant her life.

All what was left now, was her pride.

She didn’t feel anything. No shame. No pain or joy or glory. _Nothing_. Since she had left Walder everything was gone.

During this time, she met Petyr. Compared to Walder he was dull and grey, but compared to herself he sparkled like a diamond in the rising morning sun. He brought something back to her that she had thought she had lost forever. She clung to him as if he were the rope that kept her from drowning.

She didn’t sought love. She didn’t want to talk. She only wanted to free her mind from its burden, wanted to let some thoughts fade in her memory, turning them to dust.

She never thought Petyr would give it to her without asking questions, but nevertheless, he did. She was thankful for it. Without him, she felt the pain once more. With him, she felt alive. She knew it wasn’t right, but he was the only one who understood. She couldn’t let him go, to breathe freely, even if it was only for the shortest of moments.

She took her last breath.

Now she couldn’t go back. She wished she could turn back time.

 _Tomorrow_ , she told herself, she would live. _Tomorrow_ everything would be all right.

 

_So fly on_

_Ride through_

_Maybe one day I'll fly next to you_

_Fly on_

_Ride through_

_Maybe one day I can fly with you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never actually thought that I would ever write something from Margaery's personal view, but as it turned out I had to write her personal view and it was very very difficult. I really admire Margaery's character in the books and Show (she always seems to be so tough and brave as she shows in her manipulation of Joeffrey), but she isn't one of my favourite characters. Maybe that's the thing why it took me so long to write an acceptable chapter of her. Petyr was much easier. He is more tangible for me. Nevertheless, I hope you don't mind that it took me so Long to update the Story. I really enjoy to write it and I don't intend to finish it in the near future.  
> I'm already looking forward to Christmas (last week we had the first snow and everything sparkled), I've got something on my mind what I want to write, it's already halfway written, and I hope I can finish it before Christmas.....
> 
> First lyrics are from 'Never Forget You' by Zara Larsson.
> 
> Second lyrics are from 'Even heaven cries' by Monrose.
> 
> Third lyrics are from 'Fly on' by Coldplay.


	9. The Westerlands_Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genna meets her son for the first time after a long time. She should be delighted and happy at the prospect of seeing him again after so long. Nevertheless, she doesn't visit him for joy, but for preventing him from the worst mistake he could make ever. As she arrives at Casterly Rock, the rooms are dark and quiet. As she opens the door to the kitchen, she finds a letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone of you had a good start in the year 2017 (I know it's a bit late for congratulations, I'm very sorry for it, but things didn't run so well in RL, so I was not able to post anything until today). 
> 
> I know I wrote something about a Christmas Special in my last posts, I didn't forget it and it's almost finished. 
> 
> As always, characters belong to our wonderful George R.R. Martin.
> 
> Lyrics are from 'Angel by the Wings' by Sia.

_Look up, call to the sky_

_Oh_ _, look up and don't ask why, oh_

 

Genna II

Genna had always liked travelling by train. The train felt like a second home for her and, it was much more relaxing than driving. Every time she drove, she got a bit twitchy, her breathing became erratic and she couldn’t stop hearing Tywin’s voice inside of her head, always spitting harsh suggestions and criticisms to her, even if he wasn’t even there. He often described her as _“a_ _living and constant danger to everyone on the street”_ , but she forbade herself to give something on his contemptible gibes _._ Well, she knew, she wasn’t a very good driver, but every time she used the car, she was able to get to the place she wanted to go without hurting herself or other people. _Wasn’t that enough_?, she always asked herself silently while he criticized her once more. She never wanted to achieve more. For her, it was enough, _but for Tywin?_ _Never._ Regarding to him, it was all only for her best (as always), he only wanted to take care of his _‘little’_ sister. For him, it was necessary that he controlled everything (driving included) because only he knew the best for everyone. She pressed her lips tightly together. She doubted very much that he really had only a clue about his _children’s_ feelings or _her’s_.

After she left the train, she took a deep breath in. Even if it was almost winter, the light smell of fresh hay and apples was still in the air and made her think of baked apples. _Maybe she could make some baked apples and surprise her grandchildren with them?_ She hadn’t seen them for a long time after all, but then, everyone else of her family would know at once that she was back at Casterly Rock. That wasn’t so bad, as long as they didn’t know the real reason for visit, but as soon as they knew she was here, they would all go visiting her and _that_ was the thing she really wanted to avoid. She couldn’t say that she disliked them (they were her family after all), but they were _so many_. She could never remember all of their names (for her, nearly all of them looked the same with their green eyes and golden hair), so she accidentally mixed up all their names and every meeting ended up in a disaster and THAT was truly utterly embarrassing for both sides.

Since her very childhood, the Westerlands at the foot of Casterly Rock had been her home. For her it was the place, where she wanted to grow old and die finally. Kings Landing was of course nice as well, but through all these years, she never could feel comfortable at this place or with the people around. Everything was busy, everyone only thought but himself, nobody cared about others, and everyone was restless. She preferred the quiet of Casterly Rock. There, she felt at home. She was familiar with her surroundings, the people and with the habits. She could spend her days in the library of Casterly Rock (her family was one of the last who were able to afford maintaining ancient books of the Age of Heroes) and help students to find the books as she had done in the past, much to Tywin’s disgust.

Tywin hated nearly everything what gave people some advantage or even help. For him, everyone who relied too much on other people was weak. She didn’t share his opinion, couldn’t even understand it, but through all the years she had learned that independence was very important for her brother. Sometimes she had the feeling that he wanted to protect himself with that _._ However from what? _If someone don’t have close ties to anyone, he couldn’t get disappointed or hurt,_ Tywin had told her once. She could still hear his rigid voice echoing inside of her head. He must have been very angry then. Normally, he didn’t show anyone his feelings or gave them an insight into his thoughts, but he had never been _cold_.

Her father had been of charming nature. Her mother was a little bit stiff, always unsure about what to do. He loved to surround himself with people, he knew, she seemed always strained with other people. Her father wanted to be adored by everyone, his wife, his children. You couldn’t say he was stupid, but he was a very credulously man, who only strove for attention. After his death, people said he had had a low self-esteem that forced him to such measures. However, she didn’t believe such stuff. She would rather say her father simply loved the _feeling_ _of being adored_. Her mother however, wasn’t able to fulfill his steadily growing need of adoration and praise.

It hadn’t been a surprise for her when her father brought another, much more younger woman home. In contrast to her mother, she had been really a beauty and charming from head to toe, but _cold as ice_ in her hollow heart as Genna had to find out to her chagrin not much later. Her father made it very clear to everyone that this woman, who was everything her mother had never been, was the one he wanted by his side. She remembered the day as if it had been yesterday. Her father stood at the head of the stairs, erect as a peacock, while her mother kneeled on the floor before him. “ _Please_ ”, she had pleaded, her voice nothing more than a horse whisper, but she didn’t cry. _“Tytos, please.”_ , she said again with her head hold high.

The next thing she remembered was that strong arms covered her ears and she looked straight into angrily green gleaming eyes. “Close your eyes, Genna”, he had said with such a gentleness, she never thought her brother would possess, before he brought her away. However, nothing could erase the momentously words she had just heard. There had been something in this pleading that made her sick, something distasteful personal, that surely wasn’t intended for her ears, but still troubled her. She didn’t understand at all what happened. Everything was confusing, everything felt so _wrong_. “ _Tywin_ ,” she whispered into her brother’s neck with her small child voice, “ _what’s wrong with mummy?_ ”

She was too young then, much too young to understand. _Should she still love her father even if he betrayed her mother or should she hate him?_ Tywin never hesitated to show how disgusted he was by his father’s actions. As always, he expected her to follow his lead. However, this time she couldn’t. He was her father after all. Even if she were disgusted by his actions, she couldn’t hate him.

After her mother died embittered after several years of degradation, she swore to herself, she wouldn’t fall in love. _Never_. But of course, she did. It was an understatement to say it didn’t bring her anything good. She was powerless against the merciless pain in her body, the pulsing ache in her heart as she began to realize that no one cared for her feelings. Instead, they forced her into a marriage she never wanted. Every single drop of hope was crushed cruelly.

She never allowed herself to love again. Of course, she made some small exceptions. _Her children. Tyrion._ She couldn’t be so cruel to leave him alone at a place which was as cold as ice. He didn’t deserve it, nor did his siblings. Hence, she opened her heart once more. She gave them a place in her heart, sent them her love and took care of them as if they were her own children. Somehow, her continuously growing love to them replaced her fear and pain of being left alone. They gave her something she hadn’t felt since her father gave it to her. They brought the long forgotten feeling of security, happiness and warmth back to her. Some time later, she accepted that it was right to be loved. That it was right to love. That no one could choose whom he would love. Only the gods knew who it would be. After she accepted the truth, she cried for a long time. Somehow, she forgave her father. Somehow, she forgave her brother. And finally, she forgave herself.

* * *

Against heavy snowfall and icy wind she fought her way to the great house at the end of the path. Everything around her was frozen, even trees and glitteringly flowers. Gladly, she had her woolen scarf and fur gloves. Without them, it would be hopeless to fight against the icy cold, which crept mercilessly into her body. As always, she had underestimated the cold, which brought nothing more than death and dark nights. The Westerlands were in the south after all, with no summer snow, but a beautifully pleasant summer and a moderate winter with light snowfalls. Only the Gods knew what they wanted to achieve with this awful weather. It was a mystery for her.

Shaking with cold, her trembling fingers rifled through her handbag to find her key. Her fingers moved slowly, they felt dump after so long in the unpleasant cold while wet, rain-slicked snowflakes dropped still from the sky, only to fall straight into her face. Nevertheless, her fingertips touched something smoothly cold. _It was her key_.

As soon as she locked up the door, she _knew_ something was wrong. She wouldn’t say she felt it, it was rather a slight feeling of uneasiness and knowing, that arose in her whole body as she entered the house. With trembling knees, she made her way down to the hall. A small fire was burning slowly in the great hearth, but apart from that, there was no sign of her son. Slowly, she turned away from the warming fire and made her way to the living room. The door opened with a deep creak and gave her a view of an abandoned place with nothing more than cold and darkness. Nevertheless, she forced herself to take a step inside. Heavy darkness enclosed her and made her shiver slightly. She pulled her scarf tighter around her body to fight her fear off. No fire was burning, no noise was to be heard, only shadows lived in the dark and tried to trick her mind. “ _Walder?”_ she whispered against any reason into the dark. She didn’t know what she expected to hear, but the only answer she got was deathly silence. No light lighted the room, the heavy curtains closed. Her breathing became unsteadily, she couldn’t breathe in this sticky, empty room anymore. She desperately needed air to breathe. Somehow, the shadows approached her weak figure, kissed her lightly on her skin and tried to pull her into darkest of corners. With trembling hands, she reached for the door handle. She needed to get out of the room before it was too late. With her last ounce of strength, she fled from the room.

Somehow, she made it to the stairs opposite of the hearth and sat down rather inelegant than elegant, but this time she didn’t care. She absolutely hated darkness, loneliness and everything that gave her the feeling of being trapped. Not many people knew about her fear, even less understood. She was sure now that Walder wasn’t here. Suddenly, she felt _so_ tired and doubts began to arise in her mind. _Where did she take the right to judge someone’s actions from?_ Yes, she knew she was old, almost ready to die, maybe she thought she knew more of life than her son, but why did she want to intervene in his personal affairs? She had never thought of it before. To tell the truth, it wasn’t necessarily because of him, but _herself_. She might be old, but she hadn’t forgotten the past. Her memory was still working very well, sometimes even too well. _She wished she could forget._

Laboriously, she pulled herself together. She shouldn’t spend her last days with dark thoughts. Instead of it, she should spend them with her family. However first, she would call Walder. She went to the kitchen, almost feeling like her former self again, and reached for the phone as she noticed a grey piece of paper. The closer she got, she saw it was a letter. The letter had no signature, but she recognized Walder’s handwriting at once. _Why wasn’t he here, but did write her a letter?_ With her heart pounding into her chest, she began to read.

_“Mother,_

_If you find this lonely letter lying on the kitchen table, I will be either the happiest man alive or the greatest fool the world has ever seen. My heart, my soul –no, my whole body and mind- is nothing more than a shadow of its former self. My mind is so tired of pushing and banishing her out of my mind, that everything around feels dull. Every time, I close my eyes, I see brown eyes looking straight into my soul, feel her warm hand on my cold cheek in an attempt to give me some warmth. All I see is her. All I can think about is her. Ever since she left me, every place besides me is empty and cold. My heart aches to see her again, even if it’s only for one more time. I thank the Gods for their goodness to present me with her, even if I know that I won’t see her again - what is the most scariest thought I’ve ever had. I know you still won’t believe me, Mother, but she’s one of the most precious things I have.”_ Genna doubted that very much. She rather thought that Margaery had totally dulled her poor son’s senses. The things he wrote were absolutely stupid, she had never thought he was able to write or imagine something like _that_. But the letter wasn’t finished yet. _“I know, Mother, that you never liked her”_ (true) “ _and tell me, Mother, every time I speak of her, do you want me to call a fool? Have you never loved, Mother? Don’t you know how impossible it is to choose the one we love? Don’t you know the slowly increasing pain burning inside of you when you are separated from the person you love? The cruel feeling of not knowing how she’s doing?”_ She put the letter down and rested her head into her hands. How couldn’t she realize that it had been so serious? _“I know, Mother, you have a kind and gentle heart. Therefore and for the love you still have for me, please listen to me. My feelings for her should have changed after she left me broken on a wooden floor, but they did not. On the contrary, with every passing day they only grew stronger. With every day, my heart told me that it had been wrong to let her go. With every passing hour, my heart decided more and more to take her back at all costs. I cannot live without her anymore, nor can I live with the thought of what if I only had tried a bit harder. All I ask from you, Mother, is to accept. Accept her. As the person next to me and as a part of our family. I don’t want to hid our relationship anymore because it could hurt your feelings. All I want to do is to shout out my love for her. I don’t care anymore who knows. I want to be a happy man again with the love of my life besides me, so I will do the only one right thing there is.”_

 

The letter fell silently to the ground. All she could think was that she was too late.

 


End file.
